Hated
I've been hated for most of my life. Even as a kid, I've been bullied by almost everyone in my school. I have no idea why. People called me "racist" for not saying anything racist. People called me "weird" while I was not even being weird. Most of all, people called me "retard". "I am not a fucking retard!" I used to say to them. They apparently just didn't understand, and every time soon after I said that, I got pulled into detention. The other kids said it a lot too, so every time I said those words, I'd get a detention. One of the kids in my class, Jerry Chalmer, was the one that bullied me the most. I fucking hated that kid. Jerry said to me almost every single day "Hey, retard!". One day, I finally had enough. I punched him in the face. I kept punching him until his nose and mouth bled profusely. Sadly, one of the teachers had to pull me away from him. Soon after, I was suspended from my own school. I forgot to say this earlier, so here it is now. Even my dad and mom hated me. My dad would abuse me every single day and my mom would just not care. My dad had many guns in his cabinet, and along with that, bullets. I knew what I must do. After about 11:00 PM, while my parents were sleeping, I quietly opened the cabinet and grabbed a pistol. (By the way, I haven't exactly told my parents that I was suspended.) I put some weird-looking brass bullets inside. I still loved my parents, that is true, but I couldn't get over the fact that they hated me. I had to do something about it. I took it off of "safe" mode and fired a round into each of their heads. Now they can sleep for as long as time itself. I didn't even bury my parents. I just left them to stay in their bed, rotting and disgusting to even look at. You could smell their corpses all around the house. The next morning, I rode my bike to school and went inside the school. Some of the teachers tried not to allow me in, but I got through them anyways. I embarked on my journey to class and I saw Jerry. I wasn't too happy to see him. I bet he wasn't happy either. If he knew I had a gun hidden, he would've pushed me over and punched me repeatedly until I bled. That wasn't the case. I quickly pulled out the pistol and shot Jerry in the chest. I shot every student in my class without hesitation. My teacher was shocked, of course, and hid under her desk. Not even that could save her. I fired a a clean shot into her head. I'm guessing some of the other teachers heard me, because when I left the room, there were police officers waiting. I had no bullets left, sadly. I just had to drop the gun and surrender. The police took me into prison. It's been 35 years since that had happened, and I remember it like it was yesterday. All of those victims of my wrath are now in a safer place than this hellhole of a planet. I just wish I could've killed more people. That would've been paradise for me. Category:Blood and Gore Category:Mental Illness Category:Murder